Today’s post is only a little bit about craft - so feel free to skip it. It’s simply a small personal reflection that I got stuck on last week about the origin story of The Craft Sessions…. about how it all started with a song…well two actually. It’s a post about why our art matters.

Back in November of 2012 I was thinking of starting The Craft Sessions. There wasn’t really a retreat in Australia at the time, and I was deep in the middle of motherhood. I needed to do something, and as craft had really saved my life during the early years of having kids, my hope was that I could help connect other crafters more deeply to their craft so they had that same support. And hopefully I could bring a bit of joy to their lives. It was a simple idea - “to connect people who crafted for joy and foster a love of handmaking”.

But I was afraid.

Who was I to start a retreat? I was a woman who had been wearing a saggy maternity top for about five years that was covered in baby sick. Why did I think people would be interested, and want to come? What happens if it failed? What if I disappointed people? What if they didn’t enjoy it? What if what I did wasn’t good enough?

The fear was paralysing. And so I sat on the idea for nearly two years while I replayed over and over again the many reasons I had not to do it…

I hadn’t started anything before.

I hadn’t run my own business.

I didn’t have an online presence at all. Or in real life. Even my local yarn/fabric store people didn’t know my name.

The question my brain got stuck on was “who do you think you are!!” Not an original fear I grant you, but a paralysing one none the less.

But then something a little magical happened. One of my small people got obsessed with Clare Bowditch’s album The Winter I Chose Happiness that had just been released. The kids used it as an album to go to sleep to each night. And so every night I listened to that album over and over again. And it got to me.

You see there were two lines, two phrases actually, in two different songs, that made my heart catch in my throat. And I heard them every single day.

The first was….

......all the dreams put awayOn the shelf of someone elseSomeone better than you

— Clare Bowditch, song One Little River

Why hadn’t I started it yet? Why wasn’t I even trying? Why did I think that this project should be done by “someone better than me”? What kind of bulldust is that? It couldn’t be that hard surely?

And then - every single night as my kid was going to sleep - I would hear in the very next song ….

You’ll be a little bit older in October.

— Clare Bowditch, song Amazing Life.

Holy shit. Even now that line breaks my heart, and fills me with hope all at once.

I will. I will be older in October. And my life is just flying by. And what am I waiting for?

Your heart wants to speak the truthYour heart wants to be knownWants to be known by you

— Clare Bowditch, song One Little River

There was a series of other things that happened to improve my confidence and get me going between that November of 2012 and the June of 2013 when I started The Craft Sessions. But those two lines, in those two songs were the thing that changed my life and got me to push go on the project that my heart was stuck on.

So as always, to bring this back around to craft…. I use this line all the time in my craft. “You’ll be a little bit older in October”. When I’m telling myself a story about why I’m not skilled enough, good enough, clever enough, to tackle a complex project, I come back to this line. “You’ll be a little bit older in October”. Because I will be.

I want to choose to be brave and fight against the parts of me that tell me I’m not enough. I get one life. And I want in. I want to make projects that make my heart sing, in my craft and in my life.

I guess I wanted to share this little story because from the outside it can often appear that we have our stuff sorted. That we were born confident and capable. I wanted to share with you the incredibly human head stuff that comes up for me each time I start a new project - just in case it is the same for you. To encourage you to also start to make the thing that you really want to make. To encourage you to practice setting your stories to one side, and to remind you that you will learn as you go. Because the only way to make the thing we want to make is to practice in the gap. And we are all there with you.

Oh and also to say that our art matters. What we put out into the world makes a difference in unseen and untold ways. x

I’d love to hear more about what you’d love to be doing or making but aren’t! And I’ll be back with more craft next week.

Felicia x

PS. The reason I was thinking about this was because Bowditch has released a new song Woman last week, for the first time in seven years - since that album that changed the course of my life. You can listen to The Winter I Chose Happiness on Spotify or Itunes or wherever else you get your music. And if you don’t follow her on instagram please do @clarebowditch. She is a shining light of a human. And you can find the lyrics to One Little River here and Amazing Life there.

I often talk on this blog about craft as a wellbeing practice. Like mindfulness, meditation and exercise, craft changes us for the better. It elevates our mood, provides us with engagement, a sense of achievement and meaning, and creates comfort in the moment. It also connects us to community, whether that be other local makers, online communities, or simply the people we are making for.

Each of these tools - mindfulness, meditation, exercise, craft - is a valuable support in my life. But there in one, unacknowledged and little understood, way* that craft kicks it out of the park, in terms of the everyday wellbeing that it provides in my life**. You see when we craft, we are creating a physical object; through the process of craft we create objects that we live with, love and enjoy as part of our everday. This object exists in our lives long after our physical engagement with the process of making is over. The object we create is more than an simple object; it is an artefact of the process that we went through to make it. And like any artefact – the objects that we create through our craft hold history.

Artefact (noun): An object made by a human being, typically one of cultural or historical interest.

— Google Dictionary just now.

Why is this significant? Because the artefacts of the craft process, the objects we make, are visible representations of the process we have engaged in to make the thing. And we humans are visual creatures. Like a photograph, they capture a moment in time. How we felt, where we were, who we were with, and why we were making this particular thing. The object we make embodies our reasoning, our choices, our stories, our feelings and our values in that moment.

Our history is held within the fabric we have made or manipulated. And history is important, as it speaks to us of who we were and who we were trying to become.

Stray sweaters - both adored by the kid in question. One is so stained and manky I would love to toss it. But she would cry. And that would make me a terrible parent. :)

I’ve been making for many years now, and so as I walk through my home, I clock the things I have made everywhere I look; sometimes consciously but often sub-consciously. This sub-conscious seeing means that my heart is regularly reminded of who I was, who I am and who I am trying to be.

The objects we make remind us of who we are and what we are capable of.

These reminders don’t need to be conscious to be valuable. My heart knows what it sees, even when my head is not paying attention. It reminds me – continuously, lovingly and hopefully – that I have capacity and agency in my life. I can do things. I can change things. I can create something wonderous, something new.

These reminders serve to make my heart buoyant, and elevate my life by adding depth to the interactions I have with my environment as I wander about doing my everyday. For example doing my chores in clothes that I’ve made, is an inherently richer experience that one where I’m wearing something soulless from the shopping centre.

Interacting with meaningful objects can improve our lives. We are feeling creatures who get joy through interacting with objects that hold meaning and intention. This is not materialism – it is not objects for objects sake. For example the experience of blowing my nose with a tissue is not the same as blowing my nose with one of my nana’s hankies that I inherited when she died a few years ago. While there is research that says that “stuff doesn’t make us happy, experiences do”, what is special about interacting with the artefacts of our making is that object is an embodiment of the experience. The object is a souvenir but rather than reminding us of a place, it reminds us of the experience of making it, and all the inherent meaning associated with that process.

Smallest kid on her way in from the garden.

When I see a kid zoom past in an outfit I have made for them, specifically to make their beautiful spirits feel loved, then I am reminded of my connection, my intentions and my love. When I look at my couch and see a cushion I have made - a cushion where I tried a new-to-me technique - I am reminded that I am brave enough to get out of my comfort zone, that I can sit with discomfort of not being good enough, and I can prevail!! The objects I make show me that I can act with agency. That I can change my stories and my life, for the better. I can make something beautiful if I try, even when I doubt myself and even when I make mistakes.

Not everything I have made holds these beautiful uplifting soaring memories. Somethings hold stories which are full of mistakes and things I could have done better. Objects I’ve created where my decision making was off, or I was too lazy, or tired, or sad, or angry, to go back and fix the mistake. These objects are also important in this lived experience, because they remind me that I am a human in process, and that I will always be a human in process. I will always be making mistakes and trying to do better. But they also remind me that part of life must be undertaken with a who-gives-a-shit attitude. That sometimes a half-arsed job is the only way forward – it’s all we are capable of in that moment and that is enough because we are enough. And when perfectionism is getting the better of me – when I am feeling that my worth is tied to my output – then this reminder is so important. Perfect is the enemy of good and sometimes 80% done is done. The object still fulfills it’s purpose and I am worthy of love.

I heard David Whyte speak a few months ago and he spoke of how we are practicing, in each moment, for who we want to be in the next. The fabric we create holds that intention – who were we practicing to be on that day? Were we practicing courage by trying something new? Were we practicing generosity by making for another? Were we practicing a new story about who we are by intentionally moving away from a story that no longer served us? Or were we simply trying to comfort ourselves so we could sit with our sadness or fear or insecurity? This comfort is a gift we give ourselves; a gift of time and space where we acknowledge that ignoring our pain, does not serve us. Allowing ourselves the comfort of craft – and then there being a visible reminder in our homes of us treating ourselves with grace – is so very important.

Those big kids are sitting here next to here.

Over the years, as the things we have made begin to surround us, these artefacts we have created demonstrate to us, over and over again, the depth and richness of our lives. These objects that we make – the artefacts of the process – deepen the connection we have to ourselves, and remind us, over and over again, of the good in us and what we can do when we act with intention.

“Craftefacts” - A New name for the objects we create.

I’ve been pondering these ideas for the last few years – about how the objects we create are artefacts of the process, and how these objects elevate our lives. And how we don’t have language for what it does for us. And if we don’t have language for something we can’t communicate it’s significance.

We need a name so that we can talk about these objects more easily. And so that we can spread the word about this wonderful, life giving, elevating aspect of craft that is little understood.

Artefacts isn’t quite the right word as it speaks of “cultural and historical significance”, whereas the significance of these objects is much more personal. My suggest is that we call these objects “craftefacts”.

Craftefact (noun): An object made by a human being that has personal meaning, value and historical significance to that person that made it, or the person who owns it.

— Felicia Semple, this blog post.

Whereas an artefact has cultural and historical significance, the significance of the objects we make, our craftefacts, are generally only significant to us, and the people we love. And that is where the beauty of these objects lies. That they are personal; that they hold our personal stories.

These objects, the craftefacts we create, are significant to our lives and to our wellbeing. A large part of the richness, depth and meaning that craft gives us in our lives comes from living with the objects we make. Craftefacts ensure that the process of making doesn’t stop when the physical making ends, because we get to live with, and love, them. The process of making a thing includes the process of living with the things we have made.

I fully acknowledge that “craftefacts” is a slightly clunky, possibly silly word :), so I’d love any other suggestions you would like to make? Maybe there is a word I don’t know about? And I’d love to hear how you relate to the objects you have made, what they show you about yourself, and how they make you feel….

Felicia x

*There are actually a couple – but this is the main one.

**Not that I am dissing them. I do all three of them and love them. But mindfulness, meditation and exercise are over when they are over. They do not have an ongoing visible representation of their presence in our lives, other than our minds and our bodies being in better shape than before we did them.

Wow. Thanks for your super response about #theyearofthescrap. I can’t wait to see what you all make - and to learn from your learnings.

Some of you have started to tag up your older scrap projects with #theyearofthescrap on instagram that there is already a body of knowledge and ideas there for us all to learn from. I’ve started tagging some of my older projects and will do more this week. I’ve been trying to make with scraps for a few years now, and so I have many examples already - but this project is me trying to take it up a notch and really reduce the build up that is happening when I make more projects from materials than scraps. And to make more meaningfully while I do that.

There is a beauty and a buoyancy that comes from being surrounded by meaningful objects. For me the most meaningful projects are ones where I consciously align my making with my value system in order to truly live my values. Taking responsibility for my waste is a strong value of mine in other areas of our life - and is an ongoing work in progress. I try, I fail. I try some more. This project #theyearofthescrap is trying to do meaningful making in the truest sense of the word. I know these projects will add joy to my life every time I wear them or see them walking past me on a random kid I grew.

How much waste do we make?

I just want to take a second to think about how much waste I produce. If I buy the materials specified in any pattern there will always be waste. Designers must add some wiggle room and so have to over estimate rather than under estimate to ensure all people have enough materials to create the project. Now I don’t buy as much as is suggested ever really (how to buy more strategically is another post) but I still have scraps from every project. It is a reality of making.

For every 3-5 sewing projects I make I estimate I would create 1 scrap project’s worth of scraps.

With knitting it is a little different. For every 5-10 knitting projects I create I believe I would create one kid cardigan sized or adult-sized scrap project.

Obviously these numbers are totally guestimated but it is worth thinking about. That means in order to stop my scraps building up I really need to be making with scraps regularly.

A five ply scrap project from many years past. My girls wear this little sweater all the time.

Five silvers and two blues in the finished cardy.

What scraps ask of us….

My most successful scrap projects are ones where I have really put in the time and effort to plan, while also acknowledging that planning only takes you so far and so ripping will be part of the process. Using scraps means that often the only way to see if it works is to try it and see if it works. There is no alternative.

For those of you to whom rippings sounds horrifying, I wrote a post called Ripping For Joy a few years ago that talks about why and how to enjoy #rippingforjoy, but in the case of scrap projects learning this skill is essential. Without ripping, scrap projects are destined for the scrap heap.

A case in point - the pretty little silver and blue colourwork cardy above was ripped more than once in order to get the scraps to blend. Instead it has been worn for years and is a favourite.

In order to make with scraps you need to plan but then step into the uncertainty. There is no right answer, your gut instinct may be wrong and you may need to try again. But with each time you try you learn a little bit more about what you like and what will make these particular scraps sing Hallelujah.

What I’ve also learned from sitting in on Mary Jane Mucklestone’s classes last year are that you don’t always know what will work when you combine it. Sometimes something really ugly looks beautiful when you combine it with something else. Sometimes you need to leave something you don’t like, and add something else on top before truly deciding if it works or not. Sometimes the adding of another colour really grounds the ugly into something beautiful. A little basic colour theory – ala Joseph Albers – can help this make sense if it’s new to you but the jist is that a colour will look totally different depending on what colour surrounds it.

Scrap projects involve our creativity and our problem solving nouse. They involve stepping into uncertainty and sitting with the possibility of failure and not making it mean anything. Scrap projects will inevitably have moments of failure littered in their wake because they involve us using and creativity – and creativity cannot exist without the possibility of failure. Because making without the possibility of failure is simply following instructions to the letter – which is not a creative act.

But all that said, when they work, which they often will, they can become some of the things we are most proud of. These projects can cause our little precious hearts to “leap like a newborn lamb” everytime we spot them out of the corner of our eyes*

All my worsted and aran weight scraps - mainly they blend with a few weird outliers.

There are no rules - only preferences!

One of my preferences - in fact much of the reason this project exists - is that I want to practice and learn and experiment in order to come up with ways of making my scraps not look so scrappy. You might like a scrappy looking project but for me I want to try to make my scraps look more like an intentional choice.

The great news is that if you are human you probably have preferences which equate to some kind of taste. Which means that other than the odd outlier here and there (you can see my outliers in the photo above - here’s looking at you fluro yellow and you deep purple) most of you will have an existing colour palette that is visible in your scraps. We like what we like. It could be broad, it could change over time, but I find that most of my scraps look beautiful together. Not all…. but most.

Combining Marle, Flat, Flecked, Speckled and Tweed?

This is all about personal preference. For me, I’ve found that the one combination that really doesn’t work for me is to combine a totally flat yarn colour in amoung yarns that have a fleck, a marle or a tweed. As there are very few yarns in my collection that are totally flat it’s all good, but the ugly sweater’s only really jarring point is the back which is a flat purple.

Storage and Equipment

I keep them in plastic boxes**, stored together by yarn weight, so that over time I slowly see them together over and over again as I add to the box. This means – hopefully – some ideas start to form.

There is one piece of equipment that gives you a lot more when it comes to combining scraps and playing yarn chicken (where we are knitting with not-quite-enough-yarn)….. and that is a set of electronic scales. If you don’t have one - of course you can make without them but it makes life immeasurably easier as you are able to determine if you have enough yarn for a project OR you can divide your scraps into sections for a sleeve and body with a little bit of rudiemnatry maths.

I got mine for Xmas a few year ago. My kids thought it was an odd thing to ask for.

Scrap Integration

I want to flag a couple of design features (and designers) that are making patterns that are extremely useful to us when we are looking at combining scraps.

Colourwork

Have a look at Sweaterspotter’s website. Anna is a master of the scrappy colourwork sweater. My foray into this space was my colourwork sweater you can see above which used five different silvers and two blues to make this sweet colourwork sweater that my daughters still wear. I have never taken finished photos but will get one of them to put it on to show you how it turned out. Since this first project I’ve made many others including the hat pattern below.

Colourwork is the place to use up your scraps!

Stripes

I love a two stripe sweater in a tweed with a third contrasting colour for bands…. Or a three stripe sweater as shown in the picture below. I’ve made so many of these sweaters that my girl children now beg for no-scrap sweaters. This is kindof a problem.

Fades

Try dreareneeknits or westknits who both love a fade. They are many other designers who have shawls and sweaters perfect for using up your scraps.

Random

One of my favourite scrap sweaters for my kids which used three colours of leftover Felted Tweed.

Andrea’s latest Shifty sweater was made for scraps. I’m thinking of using the scraps from the lead photo on this post.

Ways to improve your scrap blend

Overdyeing

This was suggested a few times over the last few weeks – that you overdye a bunch of colours to pull them all together. You can make this even more environmentally friendly by using food waste to do your dyeing. Check out the amazing Samorn Sanixay’s feed for some scrap-dyeing magic.

Mohair

I’ve used this idea a few times. The mohair in one colour – which I have purchased for the project – allows you to use up scraps while pulling them all together in the same way that overdying would. Have a look at this wonderful set of swatches by Helene Isager which shows how mohair combinations can work.

Marle and combining yarns.

Sweaterspotter has some wonderful examples of using marle (a combination of two yarns) to wonderful effec

This sweater was made with one strand of scrap mohair and one strand of sock yarn. It pulled the yarn colours together and altered the weight of the yarn which made it perfect for this sweet Iris Sweater by Wiksten Made.

Combining two fingering weight yarns to make a worsted weight yarn.

I did this to get the right colour as I didn’t have any mustard/ochre worsted weight yarn suitable for this hat.

Other posts on this topic…

This topic is filling me with so much joy. There needs to be some posts about how to minimise our waste when we are purchasing for a project. One on fabric - as there are many lessons to be learnt here and choices to be made, and one on yarn. Some of these things I was taught by my mum who was a master at cutting a pattern out of not enough fabric, and therefore not ending up with those 20-30-40cm scraps that are so common. And then I’m going to write a post about figuring out how to combine yarns and figuring out if you have enough…. Such a fun project.

Please keep tagging and I look forward to seeing what you come up with on #theyearofthescrap.

Felicia x

*Once on a roadtrip with my girlfriends in my early 20s we camped at beautiful Depot Beach for a few days and borrowed books from the tiny little 10-book library at the National Park Office - basically Mills and Boon and Tom Clancy. There was a Mills and Boon novel which had a line “When she saw him, her heart leapt like a newborn lamb. And when he left she felt like a lamb that had lost it’s mother”. It is one of my favourite lines from a book ever, and never fails to make my heart leap when it randomly pops into my head. Sadly I can’t credit the author as I don’t remember who they were.

** Moths are bastards.

A sweater’s worth of blue/grey scraps….. some of these don’t go. Leaving them on the floor for a week is one of my favourite planning techniques. Over the week - I try different combinations and time helps make thing clearer.

Every few years I find myself drowning in scraps. Fabric scraps overflowing out of baskets and piled into tubs that have to be stored in the shed. Yarn scraps that outweigh and overwhelm the actual small stash that I maintain after years of Stash Less practice. Scraps that are so visible and visceral they have their own weight. And just like many years ago when I started Stash Less, this weight creates a feeling that isn’t conducive to meaningful life-giving making. Instead when I walk into my study I feel a sense of responsibility and overwhelm because to carry this many scraps is out of line with my values. And being out of alignment feels heavy.

I value thoughtfulness and mindfulness, thriftiness and waste awareness. I aim to be conscious about my resource usage. I want to think about my impact. And so to have more scraps than stash – as is the case at the moment has given me pause.

What to do. What to do with the waste I’ve created from my making practice. Waste that is my responsibility. Waste that I don’t want to continually shift to others by giving it away*. Waste that I don’t want to think of as waste.

What to do when my kids are so sick of scrap sweaters that they now beg to have sweaters that are all in one colour. What to do when you associate crazy patchwork with a childhood where less was sometimes less. What to do when you associate scraps with an outcome that is #lessthan rather than #morespecial. When you think of scrap projects as scrappy.

Now as I’m saying this, please don’t for a second think that I don’t love some scrap projects. I do. So many of them. But my relationship with them is a little ragged. To give you some context, I grew up in the 80s in a household where scrap projects were common, crazy patchwork was celebrated, and every other kid in my class was wearing a three stripe navy adidas trackie. My mum was a woman ahead of her time but when you are 10yo adidas can matter and I still find myself as a 44 yo trying to shake off this association with scraps.

So what to do….how to change the associations I have about scraps being less than. And how to create a joyful, excited relationship to scraps that means they lose their weight and regain a sense of possibility.

For the few years I’ve been searching out scrap projects I love and analyzing what I love about them. I’ve been seeking out others who do scraps beautifully – think Gee’s Bend, Anna Maltz, Hadley and Drereneeknits. I’ve looked for inspiring scrap projects where the scraps enhance the project rather than detract from it. Projects where scraps shine!

And I’ve been personally trying different methods and patterns and ideas to create scrap projects I love, to see what I can learn. Sometimes they’ve worked. Sometimes they haven’t. I’ve learnt a lot. About what I love, and about the possibility inherent within scraps to instead be seen as materials. About what types of projects are best suited to scrappiness.

But I want to step it up. I want to see if I can really focus on this part of my making. I want to learn to create projects where the use of scraps looks intentional and interesting. To see if I can shift my relationship to may scraps and decrease their weight so I don’t get squished.

And so, I’ve decided I need to create a challenge.

I give you #theyearofthescrap.

#theyearofthescrap is my personal attempt to really shift my thinking about scraps in a more generous and permanent way. I want to be able to think of my scraps as being as valuable as the small number of sweaters worth of yarn and dress worth amounts of fabric I have in my cupboard. I want to change my relationship to, and my ideas about, scraps.

In 2019 I plan to;

document my scraps this month to assess where I am starting.

create a pinterest catalog where I collate scrap projects to inspire me.

make in a way that reduces the (drowning) weight of my scraps

creatively attempt to make in a way that uses my scraps where they enhance the project rather than detracts from it.

share my sucesses

change my relationship to scraps

Over the last few years through numerous experiments my making has taught me that often the addition of something unexpected is what makes a project sing. I’ve added a few scrap projects below that I’ve made over the years that I’ve loved.

But I’m also feeling excited about this project because of the communal shift we are all making towards using less, making more slowly and getting more conscious about the impacts of our making. This means that there are so many wonderful examples of making with scraps where the scraps themselves are the stars of the show. Where the scraps enhance, enable and make the project something truly special.

I’ve pinned some initial ideas for your perusal and will be updating these boards over the year..

This week has seen some incredibly important conversations within our making community about race, diversity, inclusion and representation. Like many of you, I’ve been reading and listening, and learning, and thinking all week.

For me though, this is not my introduction to these ideas. Just over six months ago, I was grateful to receive an email where I was called in about the lack of diversity and representation at Soul Craft, the festival I ran in June of 2018 in Melbourne.

I want to apologise to anyone who was impacted by the programming of the festival. To anyone who felt that they wouldn’t be welcome, or who felt unseen, unheard and unrepresented I’m very sorry. I got it very wrong.

I want to add that I’m also sorry to anyone who came to Soul Craft and who felt othered or unwelcome in the space I created.

Right before the festival, a woman emailed me to tell me that while she loved my writing, my ideas ,and my attempts to connect community, that she had decided that she couldn’t attend the festival. She said that when she looked through speakers, demonstrators and teachers, that she was really disappointed to discover that the program line up was almost all white women. As I read the email I fell into a shame hole because I knew she was right. This generous woman went on to say that as a leader, as an event creator, and as thoughtful as she believed me to be, that she knew I could do better in the future.

I emailed her back to thank her, and started reading that day, and have been listening, and reading, and examining my privilege, views and values since then. What I’ve learned has changed me forever, and while I have a lot more to learn, I’ve realized this week that although I took on what she said and what I’ve learned, I didn’t say it out loud, and I haven’t apologized publicly.

Receiving the email was a reckoning. I knew I needed to understand what I’d done better. I started following and reading intersectional writers and black feminists like @rachel.cargle, @catricemjackson and @laylasayad. And I’ve been reading books and blogs and feminist websites and opinion pieces in newspapers. Importantly, I also downloaded Layla’s Me and White Supremacy handbook when it was released, and have been working through it. There is something about doing rather than just reading that has been incredibly instructive.

I’ve found our attitudes, thought patterns, and blind spots are most visible in the comments on the Instagram posts of the women I’ve been following. Reading other people’s comments has helped me understand my own thoughts, biases and privilege better. As I’ve been reading I’ve been sitting in the discomfort of being wrong, realizing that I’m ignorant and finding myself lacking. The more I read the more I realise how much more work there is to do, how much more there is to unpack.

I’ve been away the last week and so while I’ve been trying to keep up with the discussion, and keep listening, I missed parts of it. But I’ve seen there are a couple of prevalent ideas that keep coming up that I want to attempt to address.

Over the last week there have been a lot of comments about intention, and it has become clear to me that we don’t seem to deeply understand that our intention doesn’t matter.

I am going to use myself, and my failure to act, as an example. I feel this is important as I’m worried that people reading this, will defend my intentions.

My intentions don’t matter because they don’t change the impact to the people who were hurt.

I was trying to create something truly special with Soul Craft – an event that was about making and ideas, and well-being, and community, and mental health. I was trying to be a good person, doing good things, putting good stuff into the world.

I had discussions early on with numerous people about diversity. I had intentions. BUT!! during the planning, through one small decision at a time, these intentions were deprioritised.

The result was a space that was not inclusive to all of our community. The result was a lineup that was not diverse. The impact was that people didn’t feel included or seen or represented as there was no visible representation of diversity. The impact was hurtful.

And so why would I believe that my intentions matter. They don’t. The hurt matters.

Action is different to intention. You see, when I started Soul Craft I created policy to make sure that we prioritised and focused on key areas that I believed were important. Creating these policies was an action, not an intention. Soul Craft had a Connection Policy, a Low Waste Policy and a Giving Back policy. * Getting consciously active about these areas meant that we achieved our aims as they were stated. I did not have a anti-racism policy about diversity and inclusion and representation. And so my intentions melted away without me actually doing anything concrete.

We must act rather than intend.

I have a responsibility to address the privilege I am a recipient of.

This week has shone a light on people like me, people with platforms, and how we use them. Without centering ourselves, we need to amplify the voices of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander** and BIPOC who are doing the work.

I have sat on this post as I didn’t want to be reactive. I needed to sit with it as I wasn’t sure if telling you this story was centering, or inserting myself into the narrative, or if it would be helpful. But after sitting with it and learning from the voices in the discussion this week, I believe it’s really important for me to clearly state how I have been complicit in the lack of diversity represented within our community.

I still don’t know if I’ve got it right but I know that trying is right. I do know that apologizing is right. But I also know that it is a privilege to choose whether or not to try to get it right. I know that waiting is the definition of white privilege. That I can wait to talk about it till I’m ready, till I believe I can do it better, because I am privileged. Because I can choose to engage, or not engage, around race because I am white.

If I am truly going to engage with the process of doing things better, I need to act, and this email is part of me trying to do better.

I will work hard to do better with Soul Craft, and to use the privilege I have to be active. As such, I will be having many conversations about diversity, representation, inclusion and anti-racism over the next year as I begin to plan the next event.

The biggest thing that came out of the conversation last week for me is how entrenched and pervasive and subtle and overt our racism is. And how much we need to begin this conversation as a community. This work can’t be done quickly – it takes sitting and listening and time and thought to unpack our internalized racism - it will be ongoing work and an ongoing conversation.

Thank you to all those who have done the incredibly thoughtful tricky work to pull us up and keep us accountable over the last week. Thank you especially to @thecolormustard, @su.krita, @astitchtowear and @ocean_bythesea and many others for spending so much of your time, thought and emotional energy calling us to account.

I also want to thank the kind woman who so generously emailed me to clearly spell out what I had done, while giving me the push to do better by telling me that she knew I could. I am grateful for the grace, generosity and kindness you showed me, in spite of my ignorance. Thanks for being willing to keep talking to me and for holding me accountable.

I encourage you to check out this post by teacher Rachel Cargle who lists a wonderful set of resources for you. Please also read through her saved stories as there is so much important stuff there.

I also encourage you not to ask questions, but instead sit and read and think about what makes you uncomfortable. I suspect you will find, as I have, that your questions have all been answered without you having to ask. Get to understand incredibly important ideas like tone policing, white washing, white fragility, performative allyship and spiritual bypassing. And please pay the teachers you find for their work. Buy their books, donate to their work and well being.

I’m turning off the comments on this post as the teachers that I’ve been reading have stated that my role is simply to amplify the conversation, not to personally have it, as it is not my lived experience nor my place.

If you want to email me about anything I’ve written then please feel free to email me directly at hello@soulcraftfestival.com. I would also welcome any and all comments and suggestions about Soul Craft. Please know that it’s school holiday time in Australia at the moment so I have limited computer time, but I will get back to you as quickly as I can.

I want to leave you with a quote that I read a few months ago that really affected me.

The fight is to be self-critical, be reflective, actively work on our empathy and knowledge , and for the love of the fucking universe – listen to those who get hurt while we benefit. Then do something about it. I believe this fight to be a moral imperative.

— Bisha K. Ali, in an interview in The Guilty Feminist book by Deborah Frances-White.

I will keep reading and listening and learning. I will act. And I will do better.

Most importantly, I am sorry.

Felicia x

*The link is to show you the thought that went into them because they were prioritised.

This blog is about celebrating the connection between hand-making and our well-being. These posts aim to foster a love of hand-making and discuss the ways traditional domestic handcrafts have meaning and context in our everyday lives.

I love the contributions you make to this space via your comments and learn so much from each and every one. x